“There’s a lot of fun in living with an artist,” he said. “You meet queer people and amusing women, and you wouldn’t find me dull to live with.”
“I felt queer as I came near the house,” she said, “as though I knew something was going to happen. I feel very queer now.”
“That’s love,” said Logan grimly. “Love isn’t what you thought it was.”
“You must let me go now.”
“When will you come again?”
“Never.”
“Oh yes, you will.”
“Stop it!” she cried. “Stop it! I’m not going to be flummoxed by the like of you.”
“But you are,” he said. “You poor darling!”
He took her hand and stroked it tenderly.